


Duty

by Kendrene



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Assassin's Creed Odyssey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Body Worship, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Prophetic Visions, Vanilla, in the sense that they are older than in game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 00:48:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18399734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene
Summary: Kassandra has long relinquished her duties and passed them onto Alexios - eager to atone for the chaos he wrought upon Greece - to live her life on Chios alongside Daphnae.But when Artemis appears her in her dreams, followed by visions of disaster, Kassandra has no choice but pick up her sword once again. And yet, the Huntress is merciful and just, and will not deny her and Daphnae one last night together before she sets sail.





	Duty

**Author's Note:**

> So I wanted to write Kassandra and Daphnae as an older couple - because we seldom see older lesbians living together happily in media, and this fic happened.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. 
> 
> I'd like there to be one last fic about this particular arc, to form a trio alongside Sacred Hunt and Duty. Chime in below if it's something that would interest you!
> 
> \- Dren

Kassandra knew that she was dreaming.

For one thing – while she remembered snuggling into Daphnae’s side as she fell asleep - she was now walking through the narrow alleys that surrounded the Piraeus, leagues and leagues of land and sea away from Chios.  For another she was young again, her body free from the aches of old wounds and creaking joints. Her braid, when she pulled it over one shoulder to examine it more closely, was a deep brown where, in reality, time had changed the warm, rich hue to silver.  

Kassandra stared at it amazed and laughed a little - the happy, full-bellied giggle of a child who’d rediscovered a favorite toy they had thought irreparably lost. 

Still laughing, Kassandra sprinted down a random street, enjoying the way the poorly paved road seemed to fly by under her feet. She hadn’t run so fast in years and – even though her body was still strong – each consecutive winter, with its chilling, cruel winds and foggy days, made her more and more aware that she was aging.

Mirth slowly withered on her lips as she began to pay better attention to her surroundings. The hour was late, the waning moon having already started its descent toward the horizon, but the harbor district was never this quiet.  _ Or empty. _

Sandaled feet skidding across a stretch of muddy ground, Kassandra staggered to a stop. She reached behind her back and gasped, surprised to find only an empty scabbard where her sword should have been. Beneath the cured leather sheath, her fingers were met by a worn length of wood she knew all too well, and as soon as she touched it, the familiar weight of the Spear of Leonidas settled against her back. It was a comforting and yet unsettling feeling: the Spartan’s King spear represented a part of her life she thought she’d left behind.

“Impossible.” Kassandra muttered, drawing it in disbelief.

Then again, everything was possible in dreams.

With the Spear extended ahead of her,  its sharp tip poking at the darkness, Kassandra felt marginally better. She moved down the alley as silently and quickly as she could, darting from one shadow to the next, her eyes never resting on one spot for long.

The alley let out onto a wide market square but the stalls, which should have been manned even at such an hour, were empty and mostly dark. Instead of being locked away for safe keeping however, their wares were piled under each colorful awning, as if the merchants and clients had simply upped and left. A few torches were still burning yet, instead of pushing back the darkness, their faltering light added to the sense of desolation.

Kassandra had seen this kind of emptiness before. During the war, many had been forced to flee their homes without warning, carrying little more than the cloaks on their backs before enemy armies rampaged through the land.

Yet, that kind of flight meant chaos. Stalls would be upturned, belongings scattered among the dust, and what couldn’t be salvaged was often burned to spite invaders.  _ This is different.  _ Kassandra clutched the weapon so tight her hand began to hurt.  _ I don’t like it. _

A clatter - like the noise of pottery crashing to the ground - echoed up ahead, where the shadows were so thick she couldn’t see. 

“Who goes there?” 

Falling into a half-crouch, Kassandra edged forward. Her shoulders tensed and her eyes narrowed, her body preparing itself for an ambush. Grimacing, she noticed that her hands were clammy with cold sweat, her nerves as rattled as they had been the first time she’d found herself in the middle of a real battle.  _ The atmosphere is getting to me, is all.  _ Kassandra tried and failed to reassure herself.  _ Gods, woman! Get a grip!  _

The noise came again, this time from further away. Maybe whoever had been spying on her had been scared off.  _ Or maybe they’re just trying to lure you into a trap.  _ The voice inside her head spoke common sense, but Kassandra felt compelled to investigate. The awareness that this was just a dream was quickly fading from her mind, as if she’d physically stepped into a realm past human comprehension. Not that it mattered: her jaw locked stubbornly and she decided she would get to the bottom of this mystery. 

Throwing caution to the wind, she zig-zagged between the market stalls, and stopped right at the edge of the square. A number of streets branched out from where Kassandra stood - the majority of these were wide, paved roads through which an endless caravan of ox-pulled carts would pass to bring the goods unloaded from Athenian ships deeper into the city. 

Kassandra peered down each one, her view unobstructed. There was no sign of whatever she’d been chasing. Only more emptiness.   

Something white flashed across the avenue she was facing. It moved so fast that, for a moment, Kassandra doubted her eyes. She began to run - in ground-eating strides that would have rivaled Hermes’ for speed - but, by the time she reached the spot, the shadow was long gone. 

Kassandra halted again, leaning against the base of a nearby statue as she weighted her options. Like many others around the city, the monument was dedicated to Athena Promachos. It was nowhere near as lavish and imposing as the one the citizens had erected in the Acropolis, but she found comfort in its shadow nonetheless. 

From atop the marble plinth, Athena regarded her with an unreadable expression. Kassandra shifted under that stony gaze, the comfort she had felt turning progressively to dread. She’d never seen such a young version of the Goddess: underneath a flowing chlamys, Kassandra could glimpse the traditional armor worn by Athenian foot soldiers, but Athena’s body was that of a girl who had just barely touched upon the threshold of her teenhood. And, when Kassandra peered at her face more closely, she noticed that - under the shadow of the hoplite helmet - Athena looked almost exactly like Phoibe.  

_ Huntress have mercy.  _ Hand flying to her mouth, Kassandra turned briskly away, a wave of nausea washing over her.  _ This must be a cruel joke… It can’t…  _ Sculptors were as vain as any other kind of artist, and would usually engrave their name or their shop’s sigil somewhere on the statue. 

The mysterious figure she had been pursuing entirely forgotten, Kassandra forced herself to face the statue once again, intent on discovering who could have devised such a sickening prank. 

But any resemblance she had found was gone, the Goddess’ face the same of a hundred others around Greece. 

“Hades take me.” 

She had barely time to growl the words under her breath, that the sound that had sent her rushing down the street returned. This time, she had the distinct feeling it was hoofbeats on the cobblestones and not something falling, as she initially had thought. 

“Show yourself!” 

Kassandra whirled around, spear at the ready, and risked suffocating on her words.

All air left her in a rush. 

The sight before her eyes was like a blow straight to the stomach and she folded over, winded much the same way. She was keenly aware that her mouth was hanging open, her face frozen into a mask of dumb surprise. 

A few paces ahead of her, the white streak had returned. A hind, the biggest that she had ever seen, stomped a hoof onto the pavement and inclined its head in her direction. If Kassandra hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn the animal was greeting her.  _ Like… an old friend? _

But as marvelous as the sight of a wild beast in the middle of Athens was, its appearance was further cause for awe. Its pelt was pale, now white, now silver-tinged depending on how the hind shifted. And its antlers -  _ Gods, I wonder how nobody has hunted it down yet! _ \- they shone gold in the moonlight. Were they actually made out of it? Kassandra couldn’t tell, but surely the weight of the metal would have snapped the hind’s elegant neck. 

The beast’s eyes were dark, thoughtful pools filled with secrets and when they met hers, Kassandra shivered. 

Before she could get any closer, the hind was flashing past her, its hooves striking stone with the ringing sound of metal. Sparks flew in its wake, making it easy to track its progress among the shadows, but Kassandra had to shake herself from her stupor before she was able to give chase.  

“Wait!” 

But the animal paused only briefly, sniffing once in her direction before it bolted again. 

Kassandra followed it, the noise it made guiding her whenever she lost sight of it behind a street’s corner. The Spear had morphed into a bow in her hands, but she accepted the change without breaking stride and reached for the quiver at her waist. It bristled with eagle-feathered arrows. 

_ Have I done this before?  _ Kassandra couldn’t shake the nagging feeling. She  _ knew  _ this animal, she was sure of it. Or perhaps it was the hind that knew her. 

The hunt led her ever deeper into the city. A cold wind, bitter with sea salt swept across the empty streets and fog followed in its wake. Light dimmed further and Kassandra thanked all the Gods who may be listening that her quarry was snow-colored. Otherwise, she’d have already lost it. Gradually, the roads narrowed again and, as she got closer to the Acropolis, they angled upward. She was nearing the beating heart of Athens, and yet there was no soul in sight. Every now and then, Kassandra would run across the warm light that spilled from of the many taverns lining the road but, even though she’d hear snatches of music and laughter coming from within, she met nobody. 

She could almost believe that she was the only one left alive in the city.  _ Me and the hind. _

Still, she felt watched. The sensation intensified wherever she was forced to venture into the shadow of a colonnade: a thousand unseen eyes crawling on her skin like a swarm of insects.  

Unwilling to linger on that thought, the tunic she wore under her ornate linothorax drenched in cold fear-sweat, Kassandra reached for the quiver and nocked an arrow. She half-drew the bowstring, ready to bring it all the way to her cheek should an opportunity present itself.

_ If I end the hunt I can leave.  _ She wasn’t sure it was the truth but had to hope.  _ Find out where all the people went. Or better yet, board the first eastbound ship. Any place is better than here.  _ But would it be, really? Or was every city, every island of Greece just as deserted?

No – that was not something Kassandra would allow herself to think about.

_ Focus! _

Her chance at a killing shot came so suddenly that, wrong-footed, Kassandra fumbled the bow and almost dropped it. That was completely unlike her and, when she brought the weapon to bear and aimed down the arrow shaft, her hands were shaking.

The hind, which had been steadily climbing towards the Acropolis summit, came to an abrupt stop on one of the many terraces that overlooked the city. A wall of sea fog had now rolled in, shrouding the temples and palaces in gauzy white, so thick in places that it seemed entire districts had been swallowed whole. Kassandra wouldn’t be surprised to discover that the ground had opened up beneath parts of the city, familiar streets and landmarks plummeting into the underworld without a sound.

But her attention was only partially focused on the upsetting spectacle. Her quarry had completely stilled as if it were waiting for something and, years of training and war taking over every instinct, Kassandra took aim and let her arrow fly.

She regretted her action a split second later, but it was too late. A moment more and red would blossom on the hind’s chest, the great beast slain by her hand.

Even knowing it was useless, she yelled a wordless warning.  _ What are you doing?  _ Another voice screamed inside her.  _ What kind of madness is possessing you?  _ It sounded strangely similar to her brother’s. 

If Alexios could see her now he’d laugh and with plenty of reason.

Kassandra hastily withdrew a fresh arrow, readying herself for a second shot if need be. It struck her as odd that the first hadn’t yet hit true, but then again everything was odd about this night. Time and space between her and her prey dilated and, just when she thought the first arrow was finally reaching the target, the hind tossed its head and deflected it away with its antlers.

“ _ Malaka _ !”

Kassandra loosed the other arrow, but the animal had already darted away and it bounced off a marble column before rolling somewhere out of sight.

Still cursing she ran after the hind: already the shadow of the Parthenon was blotting out the moon and it would only take another bend of the path before she reached the summit of the Acropolis. She had to hope her prey would pause again – tired from the ascent – and present her with another chance. Otherwise her task would get trickier: while the one she followed was the only access road, part of the Acropolis was but steep rocks and forest. Should the hind make it under the trees, it would be much harder for Kassandra to track it down.

She realized she had bigger problems as she reached the top of the hill, sweaty and out of breath.

There was no fog here, but the sky was hidden all the same. Dark, greasy smoke billowed from the Parthenon’s interior as if the temple was vomiting it out. It rolled across the square and wrapped in heavy tendrils around Athena’s statue. Like a funeral shroud.

Teary-eyed, Kassandra covered her mouth and coughed, shaking her head in disbelief. The sense of dread that had accompanied her thus far became crippling, and she had to force herself to move forward. Of the hind there was no sign, but the hunt was the furthest thing from her mind right about now.

She expected screams and voices raised in alarm to fill the air. Instead the square was deathly quiet and even the tongues of flame licking through the caving sections of the temple’s roof burned without a sound.

The night had been chilly before but – as Kassandra stepped closer to the fire – sweltering heat buffeted her. She staggered and pulled a corner of her  _ himation  _ over her nose and mouth to protect herself better. Soot and dust already covered it, more oily embers raining from the sky, and she could taste them, like a bitter coating on her tongue. 

Other battles and older wars filled her mind. The air even smelled the same as it did after a raid: so incandescent it burned her throat on the way down, and reeking of scorched fabrics and charred meat.  _ That’s where the people went then.  _ But as big as the Parthenon was, it could not fit all of Athens populace. 

“Took you long enough.” 

Kassandra whirled around and raised her bow in one fluid motion. Her hands were empty.

The newcomer - a woman - glided through the smoke and into view. She was dressed in pristine white, her  _ chiton _ short for the prudish standards of the Athenians. What particles the wind blew in her direction didn’t seem to reach her. Her garments were not stained, nor did she cough or weep from the smoke. Gold glinted upon her brow: the proud antlers of the hind fashioned into a circlet to crown her. There was no doubt this time about the nature of the material. The stranger nodded her head in greeting but, rooted to the spot, Kassandra could only stare. It  _ wasn’t  _ gold, but something her mind struggled to comprehend: so bright as it caught the fire’s reflection that Kassandra couldn’t stare at it for long. It was sunlight bent to the woman’s will. Starfire.  

The bow Kassandra had been clutching was now slung across the woman’s back and, as it dawned on her that she had been trying to kill Artemis herself, a cold layer of fear descended over her heart. Even after all the years spent with the Daughters of Artemis, Kassandra was skeptical of the gods and, despite having seen her fair share of portents, far more inclined to believe they were simply thing that man had not yet unveiled the workings of. But being confronted by Artemis herself…. _At the very least she’ll turn me into some forest beast. If I’m lucky._

“Don’t worry.” The Goddess’ tone was light, her face the one she glimpsed in Daphnae’s eyes whenever the priestess climbed on top of her, “I’m not mad.” 

Kassandra swallowed and Artemis approached, hips swaying and a lazy half-grin on her lips. 

“You’re one of my daughters after all. I’d be far more disappointed if you hadn’t joined me in the hunt.” 

The Goddess was so close now that Kassandra could smell her after a fashion. Artemis was the dark and secret places at the heart of every forest, the thrill of the hunt, the taste of fresh prey slow-cooked over a bonfire. 

“Why-” She had to lick her lips before she could continue. Most of her blood was  _ definitely _ rushing south. “Why did you bring me here? What is the meaning of this?”

“Right to the point, uh?” Artemis stroked her cheek with fondness. “Then again, that’s why I like you so much.”  

“Well?” Emboldened by the deity’s disposition, Kassandra pressed forward.

“Greece needs you, daughter.” Artemis tilted her head up, a frown creasing her brow, and Kassandra followed her gaze. Above them, gilt was melting from the top of Athena’s statue and ran down her face in rivulets. The Goddess seemed to be crying for the fate of her city. 

The message that the Huntress brought was deceptively straightforward, but entailed a heavy price. Athena’s weeping, unseeing eyes held the ghost of a life she thought she’d left behind. With her brother. 

Alexios had been desperate to mend the harm the Cult had caused, and Kassandra was so tired. Handing him the Spear and the Staff along with their legacy had been the simplest thing she’d ever done.  _ Turns out that easy things do come back to bite you, don’t they?  _ She grimaced and tried to smooth away a glare, but the sudden spark of resentment was not so easily extinguished.

“I don’t do that stuff anymore.” The words flew out of her mouth like stones from a sling, and Kassandra winced. “I left the Staff with my brother.” And the burden.  _ Unless…  _ “Has something happened to him?” 

“He’s not the right man for the job.” Artemis snorted and her grin widened. “Not that men are good for much in general.” All levity was gone a moment later, her eyes grave as they met hers. Their color was as mutable as the seasons: now they were yellow like a wolf’s, now the deep green of the forests she ruled over. But kindness never left them.

“I…” Kassandra dropped her eyes to the ground and sighed. She felt like crying herself. The dread inside her gut had turned to inevitability. She would have to go, not only because the Goddess she was sworn to had called upon her, but because if she did not she’d never be able to live with the knowledge of what she could have averted. 

“Is this happening right now? Has it already happened?” 

“No. And not yet.” 

A large chunk of Athena’s statue crumbled to the ground.

_ I’m too old. Too tired.  _

“Goddess give me strength.” 

Her words were lost under a cacophony of other sounds. The night had come alive around them: the temple groaned and - as it devoured everything it could - the fire crackled and hissed. From somewhere within the orange glow of the flames people screamed, whether in terror or pain made little difference. 

“I wouldn’t ask this of you and then abandon you, daughter.” Artemis stepped closer and took Kassandra in her arms. “That’s more like my father.” 

Kassandra was glad for the comfort she was offered. It didn’t lift the ache that had settled into her heart, but somewhat eased it, like balm over a wound. 

“Who is responsible for this? Is it an invasion? Civil war?” The second possibility was to her far more terrifying. Kassandra didn’t think that the city-states would survive another intestine war, not after the cost they had already paid. 

“I’ll tell you a little secret.” Placing a finger under her chin, Artemis tipped her face up and breathed the words against her mouth. The Goddess’ lips were soft, and Kassandra sought refuge in the kiss. “Being Gods doesn’t mean that we know everything…”

Breaking away from their kiss, Artemis pushed her back hard enough to make her fall. Kassandra expected she’d be met by stone but she kept falling, the Goddess and the Acropolis receding into blackness until she could not see them anymore. 

Only then did she realize that she was screaming. 

***************

“Kassandra!” A hand grasped her shoulder, shaking her awake. “Kassandra, it’s just a dream!”

She came to with a gasp and bolted to a sitting position, fingers scrubbing at her eyes to wipe the dream away. The images lingered, engraved into the back of her eyelids, and it took Kassandra some time to regain her bearings.

Finding herself back in Chios and at Daphnae’s side brought her no relief. Unease had nestled inside her heart and, even though some of the dread was fading along with the dream’s sharpest details, the sense of urgency remained.

“It was not a simple dream, was it?” Daphnae, who had thrown an arm around her as soon   
as she’d sat up, pulled back and peered into her face. Worry creased her brow and her dark eyes shone in the light of the faltering fire – sharp and all knowing.

“A vision, I think?” Kassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. A headache had begun to build between her eyes and from how sore the spot already felt when she touched it, it was going to be a nasty one. “I don’t know.” She dropped her hand to her lap, her voice tight. “You’re the priestly one between the two of us.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she was sorry her tone. Daphnae may be the Huntress’ favored priestess, but this was not her fault. Despite wanting to apologize and soothe the hurt she may have caused, Kassandra struggled to find adequate words. Her stomach roiled with the same kind of anticipation and sickening flutter she felt before a battle and adrenaline mounted underneath her skin, all the fine hairs of her body trying to stand on edge. She hadn’t felt like this in years and it chilled the blood inside her veins.

_ I’m too old. Too tired. _

Somehow, Kassandra was sure it wasn’t the first time tonight such a though had crossed her mind.

The silence stretched between them, as they stared glumly into the fire. It wasn’t a wounded one – not exactly – but a far cry from the quiet moments of companionship they were used to sharing.

After a while, Daphnae sighed and shifted closer. Kassandra shot her an uncertain look and, when the priestess nodded her permission, settled back against her. Daphnae’s arms closed around her and she nuzzled her lover’s cheek, grateful for the comfort she was being offered. Gradually, the tension that had gathered around them lessened and the night’s familiar sounds chased away the last   
traces of the dream. Kassandra still remembered everything – much more vividly than she would have liked – but could now put some distance between herself and its frightening revelations.  

“What did she show you, my love?” Daphnae took her hand and entwined their fingers.  “Talking it out may help.”

Kassandra swallowed, her throat suddenly constricted by an invisible fist. The dream may be affecting her less, but putting what she had seen into words was hard regardless. She’d witnessed enough portents to last her several lifetimes and then some, yet it looked like she was about to see some more.

_ Too old. Too tired.  _ She chanted mentally as if warding off what was to come could be so simple.

Taking a deep, steadying breath Kassandra launched herself into the retelling of the dream. Her words came haltingly at first, her tongue reluctant to form them. She did not dare tear her gaze from the fire afraid that, if she did, she would discover she hadn’t woken up at all. Besides, it would further break her heart to read pity on Daphnae’s face - especially when her voice cracked at the mention of Phoibe. 

“It was no common dream indeed.” The priestess commented after Kassandra had fallen silent, throat raw and lips parched from so much talking. 

Daphnae pushed the covers to one side and stood from the pile of furs they shared to fetch them water. Around them, the rest of the village remained fast asleep, but it was no surprise. While Kassandra felt her dream had lasted the whole night, the sky - when she glanced to the hut’s one window - was still a star-studded black.   

She groaned and pulled the blankets her lover had discarded to herself: she couldn’t quite tell whether the early spring night had become chillier all of a sudden. or if it was the talk of divine messages and ill omens that made a gelid shiver rush down her spine. 

“Here. You look like you can use it.” Daphnae handed her a cup and, after she had sat down again, sipped from hers. “Actually, so can I.” 

Grateful, Kassandra gulped down a mouthful and coughed, surprised at the wave of liquid fire burning the back of her throat. It was not water, as she had thought but- “Honeyed wine?” She shook her head in disbelief and drank again. This time, she took a smaller sip and swished the vintage around her mouth to savor it. It had the taste of summer, and what was left in the cup appeared dark as sin in the firelight.  _ Expensive. _ Nothing of the like could be produced on Chios. 

“I traded for it last year when the last of the trader ships stopped by before winter,”  Daphnae explained. “I was saving it for a special occasion but… This seems like a better use for it.”

Kassandra couldn’t disagree. Perhaps because she had nothing in her stomach, the wine had gone straight to her head, but she didn’t mind the slight sense of vertigo. The world appeared…. softer around the edges. Mellowed. And the wine’s inner fire had settled at the pit of her stomach, nicely warding off the cold.

She tilted her head back and drained the cup until only the dregs were left. After, Kassandra glared at the viscous stain as if she could produce more wine by will alone, knowing full well that she was dithering. 

“Is it real?” In the end, the question spilled from her with a mind of its own, the sweetness of the wine souring in her mouth. “What the Huntress showed me?” 

“I’m afraid so.” Daphnae emptied the last of her cup into the fire. Fed by the liquid, the flames reared higher with a hiss and Kassandra wondered whether the priestess could see things among the fire. Fire-scrying was one of the most ancient forms of divination and sometimes, especially late at night, she had glimpsed figures and distant places in the shifting glow. Kassandra had never mentioned it to anyone - not even to Daphnae who could perhaps help her make sense of it. The road that led to godly mysteries was not one that she desired to follow.

“I wish it wasn’t. I wish the burden didn’t fall to you. Or any of us for that matter.” Daphnae fiddled with the edge of a blanket. Even in the uncertain light Kassandra could tell that her grip was tight enough to be white-knuckled. When she spoke, her voice was reflective, as if she were talking to herself. 

“The Gods have little regard for our desires, don’t they? But the Huntress would not have walked your dreams if you didn’t have the power to prevent this. Our mistress she may be, but she’s not a cruel one.” The priestess sounded tired. Resigned. 

Kassandra was taken aback by the earnestness in Daphnae’s tone. She tried not to let it show.

“When?” She covered Daphnae’s hand with hers. “When will it happen?” 

The answering laugh was bitter. 

“A month? A year? Ten? Believe me,  _ aghapi mou _ I wish I knew. What I  _ do know  _ is that the Huntress does not pretend the impossible from you. Tomorrow we may prepare for your trip, but tonight is still our own to do with as we please.” 

“Be as it may, I don’t think I can go back to sleep. Not tonight at least.”  _ Maybe not ever _ . But that Kassandra didn’t say.

“I was not thinking of sleep.” 

Plucking the empty cup from her hand, Daphnae placed them both out of the way. Serenity seemed to have returned to her and her eyes sparkled with mischief in the low light. “If we have one night together before you go, I intend to make good use of it.”

Before Kassandra could ask what the priestess meant, she was pushed down into the furs. Daphnae kissed her, tongue tasting of honeyed wine as it swept against hers and, after that, there was no need for more questions. 

Daphnae broke away from their kiss, but only so that she could descend onto her neck. She bit and sucked and licked all at once, marking her skin with a fierceness she had not shown in quite some time. The fire of their love was as strong and bright as the first time they had made love, but while in the beginning, it had been an all-consuming blaze, it now was the steady burning of a log on the longest of winter nights. When the priestess latched onto her pulse point, Kassandra groaned out loud and fisted the front of Daphnae’s tunic. The cloth was thick, but she clutched it with such strength that it tore to pieces in her hand. 

_ Whoops _ .

Daphnae didn’t seem to mind. She pressed closer with a shiver of arousal, close enough that the heat of her body was like that of an open furnace against Kassandra’s chest. She still wore her shift, but may as well be naked: every curve of Daphnae’s body was perfectly molded to her own. The priestess didn’t weigh enough to pin her down, but Kassandra allowed herself to practically melt into the furs. She was Tartarus-bent to follow Daphnae’s wise words, and make the most of the time they had left before she’d have to leave the island. 

“Ow!” A sudden cramp jolted her thigh and Kassandra winced. The source of the searing pain was an old wound. The nasty gash wrapped around her thigh, ending at the back of her knee and - although it had healed well - when the weather was bound to change it still pained her. 

“Let me.” Daphnae’s hands dropped to the bunching muscles and she gently massaged the old injury until Kassandra’s leg relaxed. “Is this why you are so uncertain? Because you feel too old?” Intent on what she was doing, Daphnae didn’t raise her eyes but she didn’t need to look at Kassandra to read into her mind. 

Sometimes she wished her lover didn’t have such an easy time with it.  

“Too old,” she confessed. “And too tired.” 

“Nonsense.” When Kassandra opened her mouth to object, Daphnae pressed two fingers to her lips and silenced her. “I’ve aged alongside you, I know what I’m talking about. Perhaps you cannot run as fast or as far as you used to.” The hand she’d placed on Kassandra’s thigh inched upward and her bones shivered. “But I’ve seen you hunt and teach the young ones. Your aim is true and your arm is as strong as the day I’ve met you.” 

Daphnae’s fingers were now dangerously close to Kassandra’s core and her hips jerked of their own accord, seeking contact. She was burning up and out of breath, the sound of her blood deafening as it rushed south. 

“If you don’t believe me-” Daphnae whispered the words against her lips, her sweet-tasting tongue darting into her mouth, “if you don’t believe me, I can always show you.”

All Kassandra could do was moan. 

Taking it for permission, Daphnae made short work of her night shift. Bared to her lover’s gaze Kassandra felt strangely vulnerable, but the priestess’ hands glided along her body and, as she traced each and every scar with tenderness, the doubt that had assailed her trickled away. 

While her hands explored every inch of Kassandra’s exposed body, Daphnae kept on kissing her. She returned each kiss with the same hunger, drawing the priestess’ tongue into her mouth to suck on it. Daphnae’s answering moans were better than every wine Kassandra had ever tasted, and she drank of them greedily, her hands digging into the furs when her lover cupped her sex. 

Kassandra hadn’t realized how drenched she was but, when Daphnae’s questing fingers parted her folds with ease, her state became apparent. 

“You are strong.” Daphnae stroked along her slit and Kassandra’s hips bucked in agreement. “As steadfast as you always were. As you always will be.” 

Just as Kassandra was about to beg for more the priestess withdrew her hand and the grin stretched across her lips was the same one Artemis had regaled her with before she’d been awoken. 

She moved with purpose and hauled Kassandra’s limp legs over her shoulders. Head bowing forward, Daphnae pressed her face against Kassandra’s inner thigh, her breath tickling in warm puffs over her dripping sex. 

Kassandra was grateful for the change in pace: as much as she’d enjoyed her lover’s exploration of her body she didn’t think she could have borne the teasing much longer. As Daphnae nipped along her inner thigh, nosing ever closer to her core, another whimper ripped from her chest. It sounded needy - Kassandra knew - but she didn’t care. She craved her lover’s mouth, her touch and hoped to be left sore for days to come. 

At the first, soft flick of Daphnae’s tongue, Kassandra cried out. Shock coursed through her veins and she bucked again, almost pulling out of the priestess’ grasp. But Daphnae had flattened a hand against her pelvis, pinning her down and grounding her. Her lover gave a long, exploratory lick with the flat of her tongue, Kassandra’s labia parting even further to grant her access. Then, she began to work her up to her release in earnest. 

Kassandra’s head was spinning and her entire body felt on fire long before Daphnae had even gotten to her clit. When her lover’s lips sealed around it, Kassandra’s hips jerked wildly, but by then she was too far gone to care that she was smearing herself all over her lover’s chin. Daphnae moaned - her voice thick with appreciation as she drank of her slick - and the sound vibrated up Kassandra’s spine. It made her bones sing, and she echoed it with a moan all of her own. Her tone was wild and low with her lust and her desire but grew both in pitch and frequency as Daphnae fell into a more methodical rhythm. She sucked, slow and purposeful, in a way that emptied Kassandra’s lungs of all the air the contained. 

Her orgasm ambushed her just as her vision was starting to black around the edges. It rushed along her spine, making her toes curl, and each lash of Daphnae’s tongue against her throbbing clit spurned another wave. 

Kassandra screamed until her voice deserted her, and sobbed her release into the furs. The small part of her which was still capable of thought prayed this was not the last time Daphnae was making love to her. Another, even tinier part, begged her not to be too hopeful.  _ Your heart already shattered once. You would not survive a second time.  _ Her vision had woken Phoibe’s memory, and her ghost seemed determined to haunt Kassandra’s mind. Was that part of the message? Of Artemis’ design? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

Gradually, as the priestess’ adept hands steered her through the aftershocks, the voices inside her head were silenced. Daphnae eased her back onto the furs and retraced the paths she’d taken previously. She scattered kisses over Kassandra’s quaking belly, then over her heaving chest and heart. In the end, their mouths met again, and she could taste herself on Daphnae’s lips. 

“I love you.” The priestess pulled the furs around them and snuggled into her side, playfully batting her hands away when Kassandra tried to flip her on her back. “Later. Sunrise is still far away. Just hold me for a while?” 

She’d never been able to deny her lover anything, and she certainly was not about to pick up the habit now. Arms wrapped around Daphnae’s shoulders, Kassandra held her close and listened as her breath was evened out by sleep. 

Not too long ago they could have kept going all night but, even as the thought skipped across her mind, her eyes grew heavy. 

_ Perhaps we’re really grown too old _ . Kassandra snorted in amusement.  _ But at least we’ve done so together. _

Very few people were lucky enough to claim the same. 

***************

All in all, it took an entire day and a night to get everything in order.

The Adrestia was made ready to face the sea again – not that it required much work thanks to Barnabas’ attention. Kassandra couldn’t deny that there was a certain excitement to be had in watching its new sails unfurl for the first time, and hearing them flap in the wind. They were the same burgundy of the wine Daphnae had shared with her the night of the dream, emblazoned with the Huntress’ sigil.  Its intent was clear: to warn whoever could interfere with her travels that Kassandra and those who accompanied her traveled on godly business.  _ Fat chance of finding a pirate that will care… but it’s worth a try. _

Kassandra observed the preparations from the hill that dominated the small village. She was high enough that the villagers, moving to and fro from the harbor, looked no bigger than industrious ants. She’d pitched in as well, then, while the last of the crew gathered, she’d stolen a few moments for herself to try and take in as much of the island as she could. It would be weeks before the Adrestia docked in Athens and whatever catastrophe Kassandra had been tasked to avert would occupy her longer still. Maybe for years. 

_ All Gods have mercy, I hope not.  _

Around her, the hill was little more than rocks, beaten and carved by the inclement weather. Daphnae had told her an old temple had graced the hilltop, so many years ago that not even the oldest inhabitants of Chios had seen it in all of its glory. But a few broken columns still remained, and what had once been a statue of Artemis lay on the ground, almost completely swallowed by moss. 

“I really need to go, don’t I?”   

In the grey light of early morning, the Goddess’ face appeared featureless, yet Kassandra had the impression she was being stared at. The wind picked up, but it was gentle and felt like a caress against her cheek. That was all the answer Kassandra needed.  _ And the only one I’m going to get.  _ The wind ruffled her hair. 

She’d postponed the inevitable for as long as possible, but the sun was already peeking over the sea’s shifting waters, and the horizon was penned in orange and red as if it had caught fire. With a sigh, Kassandra gathered her gear and picked her way down the narrow path that led back to the village. Her eyes itched from lack of sleep and her head felt heavy: no matter, she could catch some shuteye on the ship, Barnabas permitting. 

Aside from the silver-inlaid bow Daphnae had gifted her on the night they’d become lovers, the Spear of Leonidas was strapped to her back. As portentous as the appearance of the Spear had been, it also reminded Kassandra that forces far bigger than them all seemed to be at play. “The will of the Gods” Daphnae had called it when they had found it on the hut’s doorstep at dawn. Her serene expression couldn’t mask the tremor in her voice. 

_ Wonder if Alexios would say the same, right about now.  _ Her brother must be in a lather over the loss. 

Pushing him from her mind - at least for the time being - Kassandra swiftly made her way toward the docks. She could smell the sea and it called to her in a way it had not done in a long time. The salt bit at her nose and made it sting, but she inhaled greedily until her lungs were full to bursting. 

When she arrived at the ship, Kassandra found that everyone was already there. Her crew greeted her with a cheer and she raised her hand in acknowledgment. Most among the Daughters that would follow her had hair as grey as hers, and those that didn’t were the children and grandchildren of warriors who’d walked Kassandra down the Huntress’ path. 

“I’m glad to be out on the water again.” Barnabas clasped her forearm and grinned. “I could feel myself grow soft and stale!” 

_ Soft. _ Kassandra wanted to shake her head. Had there been another choice, she’d have left the captain on Chios, with the Daughter of Artemis who had chosen him as her lover and their offspring. But he was the best captain to ever sail the Aegean and the only one she trusted in a pinch. 

“I hope we’ll be back before the year turns.” She shot a look to his child - a girl as fair-haired as her mother. Calliope had recently started to walk and had the whole village scampering after her whenever she decided to explore. Kassandra often teased Barnabas’ hair had become even whiter since the child’s birth. 

“She’ll be fine.” His tone, however, had softened and his eyes glistened with both unshed tears and pride. “We’ll all be fine.” 

He squeezed her forearm again then let her go, turning to face Daphnae and the other priestesses who approached them. The rest of the crew lined up around Kassandra, then, as one, they fell to their knees to accept Artemis’ benediction. 

Daphnae’s words and invocations fell upon them like soothing rain, but Kassandra paid little attention to them. She stared into her lover’s eyes in search of comfort, and Artemis herself stared back. The Goddess had manifested inside her lover plenty of times, but the radiance - like that of the moon guiding sailors in the night - never ceased to make Kassandra feel awed. Humbled. And the love with which the Huntress looked at her was a match for the one Daphnae showed her every day. 

Others before Daphnae had been blessed with the same gift - if such a thing could be really called a blessing. Just imagining how it must feel made Kassandra shudder. The Pythia, with whom she’d dealt many years prior in Delphi, had claimed to be a vessel for the Gods’ will but had revealed herself as nothing other than a sham controlled by power-hungry men. Daphnae, like the line of priestesses she descended from, was the real thing.  

Heart aching, Kassandra tried to refocus. Daphnae walked among them, briefly stopping in front of each crewmember to offer prayers and encouragement. When - at last - her turn came, the priestess pulled her to her feet and, saying nothing, wrapped her in a fierce embrace.  Kassandra hid her face against her lover’s shoulder and had to fight to hold back tears.  _ This isn’t like me.  _ She grimaced. It felt strange to feel their pressure build behind her eyes: she had not cried since…  _ No. It was bad enough I had to see her in the dream.  _

“Don’t cry,” Daphnae whispered into her ear. “All will be well.” She pulled back, her fingers stroking Kassandra’s cheek. Everyone else, Kassandra noticed, had moved some distance away to afford them a little privacy. “All will be well.” She repeated. Her eyes were kind and wise and entirely human.

“What if I don’t return?” Fear reared its ugly head inside Kassandra, and her voice broke into a hoarse whisper.

“You will. I know it in my heart.” In Daphnae’s arms Kassandra felt at home and desperately wanted to believe her. She never wanted to let go and tried her hardest to brand the moment into her memory.

“How are you so sure?” 

“Because either in this life or in the next you will always return to me, my love.”

The words kept Kassandra warm for all the weeks she spent at sea, and plenty more after. 

**Author's Note:**

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